


To (Not) See

by enthusiasmgirl



Series: The Five Senses [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blindness, Bullying, Disability, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 01:52:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3877855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enthusiasmgirl/pseuds/enthusiasmgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most of the time, Matt can use his other senses to make up for the fact that he can't see. Sometimes, though, he's reminded that there are challenges that even he can't overcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Matt the Bully

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the third story in a series exploring Matt Murdock's relationship to his heightened senses. You do not have to read these in order.
> 
> Again, I'd like to stress that I am not blind, nor do I know anyone who is. I am attempting to really put myself into someone else's shoes and envision what that experience would be like here, and have done a small amount of research, but if I've gotten something wrong please feel free to let me know in the comments and please don't be offended. I can try to be accurate, but I understand that there's aspects of living with blindness that I likely can't capture or know. Corrections on that front are welcome.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt hadn't really been exposed to any other blind children before, and when he is he's confused and a little angry.

Matt heard him before he met him. The sound made him sit up straighter in bed and put his book aside. The tap, tap, tap of his own cane was so familiar to him that when he heard it coming from the stairwell he knew immediately what it was. There was another blind person heading towards his room, accompanied by one of the nuns.

He was curious though. Who was coming to see him? Had the nuns found him another teacher like Stick? Had they hired another assistant to come and teach him how to use a new aid or tool that could help him, like the one who had come to the hospital after his accident? He was nervous. Nobody had told him to expect anyone.

He waited for the knock, and instructed the nun to enter when he heard it, moving to sit at the edge of the bed.

"Matthew," said the woman who he immediately identified as Sister Mary Helen. The tapping sound moved into the room with her as she entered. "There's someone here I'd like you to meet," she said.

Matt could sense the other boy's presence. They were around the same age, but the other boy was shorter and skinnier. His heart was beating rapidly, like he was scared or nervous. "Who is it?" asked Matt.

"This is Andrew," said Sister Mary Helen. "He only just moved to this neighborhood and he's going to start attending school with you on Monday. He's also blind, and so his parents and I thought it might be a good idea if the two of you met."

"But why?" asked Matt. "Because I'm blind too? Am I supposed to help him or something?" He was confused.

"It would be nice if the two of you were supportive of one another, yes," said Sister Mary Helen, "But primarily we just thought that the two of you might get along. Andrew has difficultly making friends too, isn't that right Andrew?" Matt sensed that the nun had nudged the other boy.

"Uh huh. I mean, yes," said Andrew.

"Is it okay if I leave him here with you so that the two of you can talk, Matthew?" the nun asked.

"I guess," said Matt, not sure what the point of any of this was.

The nun put her hand on Andrew's shoulder and crouched down to his level. "Now, Andrew, I'm going to leave now. Will you be okay?" Matt didn't know what to make of the sister's behaviour. "Matt's just sitting on his bed, so why don't you sit down next to him," she said.

Andrew must have nodded because Matt sensed her take his hand and walk him over to the bed, then assist him as he sat. Was there something else wrong with Andrew as well that the sister hadn't told him?

She left the room, leaving the two boys alone.

"Hey," said Matt.

"Hi," said Andrew.

"So..." said Matt. "I'm Matt."

"Cool," said Andrew. "You live here?"

"Yeah," said Matt. "Since my dad died."

"Where's your mom?" asked Andrew.

"She died when I was a baby," Matt replied.

"Oh," said Andrew. "Sorry."

Matt didn't understand this kid at all. What was he sorry for? "So," he said, "where did you move here from?"

"California," said Andrew. "My dad got a new job, so we had to move."

"That's cool, I guess," Matt said. "I've never been to California. I've never really left Hell's Kitchen actually."

"What's Hells Kitchen?" said Andrew.

"Huh?" Matt asked, upset. Was this kid stupid? "That's our neighborhood."

"Oh," said Andrew. "I didn't know people called it that. Where I lived in Sacramento our neighborhood didn't have its own name."

Matt wished he could just kick Andrew out and go back to his book, but he knew that the nuns would be disappointed with him if he did. He didn't understand why they thought he would want to make a friend, let alone be friends with Andrew. He was fine on his own.

"So, do you want me to show you around the church?" he finally asked.

"What do you mean?" asked Andrew.

"You know," Matt said, "give you a kind of a tour?"

"Just us?" Andrew asked.

"Well, yeah!" said Matt. "Why not?"

"I guess," Andrew replied. Matt could sense his heart race a bit faster. Why was Andrew so fearful?

Matt grabbed his cane and stood up to move towards the door, but noticed that Andrew didn't immediately follow him. He could sense the other boy grasping empty air around the area of the bed looking for his own cane. After a moment, he found it and gripped it tightly, taking a few steps off of the bed. But he wasn't heading towards Matt.

"I'm over here," Matt said. Slowly, Andrew made his way towards him and they headed out the door.

Matt went to turn towards the stairwell, and realized that Andrew hadn't followed him. He was standing in front of the wall, unsure which way to turn and reaching out with his free hand. Matt walked back towards him and took his arm. "It's to the left," Matt said. "The opposite way from how you came in."

"Oh," said Andrew, gripping onto Matt tightly. He didn't let go as they walked towards the stairs.

As Matt showed Andrew around, he was frustrated by Andrew's fear and nervousness. He didn't understand what was wrong with the other boy. He tripped over things, couldn't sense direction, and needed Matt to guide him everywhere they went.

After a brief tour of the chapel and community room, Matt sat them down on a bench. "Did you want to explore the neighborhood?" he asked Andrew. "There's a park around the corner, and I've got enough change on me for a couple of sodas from the bodega."

"What?" asked Andrew. "You..." He seemed to be struggling to find the right words. "On our own?"

"Yeah," said Matt, "What's the problem with that?"

"Just..." said Andrew, "We'd have to cross the street and there's so much traffic and so many people. We wouldn't be able to."

"Why not?" asked Matt.

"What do you mean?" asked Andrew. "I..." he stuttered, "We can't see. We could get hit by a car or something could happen."

Finally, Matt realized why Andrew might be so fearful. "Andrew, how long have you blind?" he asked.

"Since I was born," Andrew said, "I came out too soon, and there were complications. My mom says I could have died."

That answer was not the one Matt had been expecting. "So you've never been able to see?" he asked.

"Nope," said Andrew.

"I don't get it then," said Matt. "What's the big deal about crossing a street? You've been doing it your whole life without seeing the road!"

"What?" said Andrew, "No way! My parents would never let me. They'd kill me if they found out. I always have someone with me."

"All the time?" Matt asked.

"Well, yeah! How else am I supposed to get around?" Andrew asked.

"With your cane! And your other senses! It's not that hard!" Matt said.

"Seriously?" Andrew asked. "You know, when the sisters told me about you I was happy that there was going to be someone else like me at the school. I thought you'd understand. But they were wrong. You're nuts!"

"I'm nuts?" asked Matt, disbelieving. "You're the one who can't do anything for yourself!"

"Duh," said Andrew, "I'm blind, remember? And so are you! Do you want to get hurt?"

Matt couldn't believe what he was hearing. He didn't understand it. His dad had never treated him differently after his accident, had always let Matt do what he needed to do, and Stick had shown him that there was nothing he couldn't do. How could Andrew have been blind for longer than Matt and allow himself to be so dependent on other people?

"Fine," Matt said. "If you don't want my help, find your own way back to where you came from!" He stormed away angrily, leaving Andrew behind. He could sense the boy's heartbeat pick up and hear him sniffle back tears but didn't care.

The next few weeks at school, Matt could sense Andrew in the hallways. The boy was clumsy, and often had a teacher or other student accompanying him. The other children noticed him, and they began to taunt him. "Hey, Mr. Magoo!" they'd yell, or "Look out for the cripple, everyone!" Teachers would tut at the behaviour, but they couldn't stop it.

The worst part of it was that the kids who noticed Andrew then began to notice Matt for the first time too. Previously, Matt had been able to quietly co-exist with the rest of the students without calling too much attention to himself. Sure, he had his sunglasses and cane and he was different, but he was also somewhat stealthy and got along well enough on his own that people didn't seem to be bothered by his presence. Now, he was the other blind kid, and that was all that mattered. They hated Andrew and so now they hated him too.

One day, while opening his locker, he felt a jab in the back of his leg and turned around to realize that Andrew had accidentally bashed him on the leg with his cane.

"Hey!" he yelled. "What's wrong with you? 

"Sorry," Andrew said, turning around. His cane jabbed Matt again as he did so.

"Yeah, well you should be sorry," Matt said, fed up. "I'd say watch where you're going, but that's never going to happen, is it?" he yelled.

He could sense other kids noticing the altercation, and he knew he was being mean, but he needed everyone to know that he and Andrew weren't the same.

"I said sorry, Matt" said Andrew. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to stop being so useless and learn how to go about your business without getting in everyone's way, you loser," Matt yelled, shoving the other boy in the chest. Andrew, not being able to anticipate the push, fell backwards and landed hard on the ground, his cane underneath him.

"Matthew!" came a yell from down the hall. "You stop that right now!" Matt, his fingers balled into a fist and his breathing heavy, could hear Sister Mary Helen stomp towards him before she yanked his ear back hard, dragging him away from the other boy. "What on Earth has gotten into you!"

"Ow," said Matt. "That hurts!"

"Well it's meant to! Come with me!"

The nun dragged Matt into an empty classroom and roughly sat him at a desk. "Now," she said, "do you want to tell me what that was all about? That behaviour is not normally like you at all! You're not a bully."

"He and I, we're not the same," Matt said. "I hate that you thought we were. Why did you do that?"

Sister Mary Helen sighed. "I know that you're not the same, Matthew. That's why I wanted him to meet you. I had hoped that you might help him to have more confidence in his own abilities. That he might see how capable you were and how much you had accomplished and that it might help him to be more independent."

"Why isn't he?" Matt asked. "I don't understand him!"

"Oh, Matthew," Sister Mary Helen said, "I know that you haven't really been exposed to many other blind children, but not everyone is like you. Not everyone has your gifts. And Andrew's had a very different life than you. Did you know that this is the first school Andrew's ever been to with other children who aren't also blind? His last school was set up for children just like him. All the books were in braille, and the instructors all knew how to help him. Put yourself in his shoes. He's been moved across the country to a strange new city, and been thrown into a new situation where he suddenly feels different, like there are new expectations being put on him. Imagine how hard that must be."

Suddenly, Matt felt terrible about the way he'd treated the other boy. He realized that he was no better than the kids who teased him. That's wasn't who he wanted to be.

"I just..." Matt started, "I just don't want the other kids to think that I'm like that. I don't need anyone's help, and I don't need anyone's pity."

"I know that, Matthew," said Sister Mary Helen. "But none of that is Andrew's fault. And he could really use a friend. Or at least one less enemy, hmmm?"

The next day, when Matt sensed Andrew in the hallway at his locker, he made his way over to him. "Hey, Andrew," he said.

"What do you want?" Andrew asked, miserable.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about yesterday. And everything, really."

"It's okay," said Andrew. "I am useless. I hate it here."

"You're not useless," said Matt. "I shouldn't have said that you were. You just haven't lived in this neighborhood or gone to this school the way I have. You're not used to it yet."

"Maybe," said Andrew. "Thanks for apologizing." As he closed his locker, a paper airplane flew into his head and an older boy walking towards them yelled "Hey look everybody, where's the third blind mouse?"

Andrew startled when Matt's cane somehow found itself in the path the boy was walking and he went stumbling over his own feet onto the linoleum. Matt whipped his cane around and placed it on the boy's stomach, reached over to pick up the paper airplane, crumpled it up and threw it back at the boy's head. "I'd rather be a blind mouse than a dirty rat", he said. "I'd watch yourself if I were you. Clumsy."

The boy struggled to get up and ran away.

"Whoa," said Andrew. "How'd you do that?"

"I can do a lot of things," said Matt. "I bet you could to if you wanted to."

"You think so?" asked Andrew.

"Well, maybe." He reached out and took Andrew's arm to lead him, but Andrew brushed it off.

"No," Andrew said. "I can walk by myself." And he did, even if sometimes it was a bit awkward. Matt learned not to mind.


	2. Connecticut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a reason that Matt chooses to live his life in Hell's Kitchen, and it isn't just because he loves it so much. Trying to leave proves to be more challenging than he can handle.

Matt listened carefully as the tour guide described the history and architecture of the building in front of him and tried to picture the stone walls and creeping ivy. A shiver went through him as he thought about where he was standing. Yale University. Such a prestigious campus. If only his dad were alive to see him. Matt knew he would be proud. It had taken years of hard work and studying, and Matt was grateful for the inheritance that he had been left, and now finally he was standing on the Yale campus. He was eager to accept the offer of admission he knew he would receive and begin a new life away from the streets of Hell's Kitchen, away from the orphanage, away from the constant reminders of everything he had lost. September couldn't come soon enough as far as he was concerned, but in the meantime he would have to settle for this brief preview of what was to come.

The tour moved on, and Matt brushed away the arm of his assigned assistant as she moved to guide him. "I'm fine, thank you Melinda," he said to her politely. The university had been insistent that he have someone accompany him as he explored the grounds for the week. He'd told them that he was capable of navigating the campus on his own, but apparently there were liability issues that prevented him from saying no to their offer.

So far, things had been going relatively well. It was only the first day, but already he had audited several classes and settled into the unfamiliar surroundings with relative ease.

The group moved to a courtyard and were provided with an opportunity to sit, relax and enjoy the scenery. There were coffee carts nearby and food vendors. Matt settled onto a picnic table bench, leaned his cane next to him and pulled his laptop and braille display out of his bag.

"I'm going to get a coffee," Melinda asked. "Do you want one?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Matt said again. It seemed as though that would be most of his end of the conversation for the week. He didn't need the help, and wanted to make sure that the woman knew it.

He began reviewing the notes he had taken from an earlier lecture. It had been as brilliant as he hoped it would be, and he didn't want to waste any opportunity he had to learn anything he could from the experience he was having. He was so engrossed in it that he didn't sense the skateboarder zooming towards him or the collision course Melinda was on with him. When the skateboarder hit her, she went flying, landing hard on top of Matt, taking his laptop and cane to the ground with her. The coffee she was carrying went everywhere, and Matt leapt up to try to get out of its path. It got on him anyway, ruining his shirt and burning his arm.

"Shit!" said Matt, panicked.

"Sorry," said Melinda, "I'm so sorry. Oh no!"

Matt quickly realized that her exclamation of sorrow wasn't just because she had burned him. As he straightened his glasses, then bent down and reached out to feel for his cane, he couldn't find it, but he did feel the smashed pieces of his laptop and braille display on the ground. She handed him his cane and he realized that she must have fell onto it, because it was in two pieces.

"Oh no," he agreed, settling himself onto the ground in the middle of the disaster.

"Do you want some help?" Melinda asked.

"Yes, please," he said, taking the hand she offered and standing back up.

They headed back to his room so that he could change his shirt, leaving the rest of the tour to continue on. He then had to get Melinda's assistance with looking up local resources to replace the broken cane. He was frustrated to learn that New Haven didn't have a lot of resources for the kind of aids or tools he needed. He wouldn't be able to replace his braille display even if he could get a new laptop, and the cane he would have to get cheaply from the local Walmart.

"I don't have a car but it's just a quick bus ride away," Melinda said as he ran the burn on his arm under tap water from the bathroom, "I'll go with you. It's the least I can do. You can't get around without your cane."

"I guess I don't have a choice," said Matt.

"Oh, wait," Melinda said, looking at the Walmart website. "It's out of stock at the location here. Damn. And Brantford and West Haven too. I guess it's not really a popular item. I could see if I could borrow a friend's car and drive us? The nearest location that has one is about a 45 minute drive away."

"No," said Matt. "You don't have to do that."

"But..." Melinda said.

"No, I'm fine. You can leave. I'm going to stay here the rest of day. I'll see you tomorrow, though?" he asked.

"Sure," said Melinda. "Bright and early."

She left and it was all Matt could do not to sob into the sink. Not only was he now without a way to get around without assistance, but he was also without a way to take notes on any of the lectures, or access computers or the internet if he needed to.

As Matt thought about what to do next, he resolved himself to not surrender to the situation. He would be fine. He'd overcome challenges before, and he'd wanted to go to Yale for as long as he could remember. His father had always wanted him to study hard and end up here. So that's what he would try to do.

His resolve lasted for the next two days. Without his cane, he didn't have a choice but to accept Melinda's help. He couldn't let on about his heightened senses and just start moving around the campus without it. And even if he could, his heightened senses could only do so much for him in a place he was so unfamiliar with. But as time went on, it wore on him. It made him feel ashamed of himself to have to reach out in front of him aimlessly to avoid bumping into the occasional object, or to know that people saw him struggling.

On the third day, Melinda showed up with a cane. She said that once the administration had heard he needed one, they'd done everything in their power to get it for him. They didn't even ask him to pay for it. As kind as it was, Matt hated that more. It meant that the administration paid special attention to him and were looking out for him, which felt like special treatment.

By that point he was absolutely miserable. The entire experience had served as a harsh reminder of the fact that as much as he liked to think he was just as capable of doing things as anyone else, there were certain things that were a challenge for him. What would it be like if he lived here? Without resources nearby, what would happen if he needed something in an emergency? He couldn't drive, and even public transit was sometimes difficult for him. Back in New York, it was easy. Nobody in New York City drove. It was easy to get a cab. And most things he needed were within walking distance no matter how specialized they were.

And, if he was being honest with himself, he was homesick. He missed New York City. It's sounds, it's smells and the way it felt were familiar to him. Having to adjust to a new place was disorienting and exhausting.

On the fourth day, Matt asked Melinda to accompany him to the bus station. He told himself that he wasn't giving up, that he had simply decided that Columbia was a better school and a better choice for him. That adjusting to college life would be hard enough without adding being in a new place to things. It was easier than admitting that the decision had anything to do with the fact that he was blind. That there would always be some doors that other people walked through that would be closed to him, and that he couldn't kick all of them open by sheer force of will. Still, he was disappointed in himself. That feeling never went away.


	3. Described Video

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt's other senses can make up for a lot of things, but the experience of watching a movie or TV show isn't one of them. Thankfully, Foggy's there to make him feel a little better about it.

As Matt threw his backpack onto the floor next to his bed, he immediately recognized the sounds coming from the television. The "vssssh vssssh" noises were as familiar to him as the sound of his own voice. "Is that one of the Star Wars movies?" he asked Foggy.

"Yeah, man!" said Foggy. "Greatest movie ever made."

"I hope you're talking about Empire Strikes Back," Matt said, "because otherwise I'll have to fight you."

"Duh," said Foggy. "What am I gonna say? Return of the Jedi? Or God forbid, The Phantom Menace? Gross."

Matt laughed. "I know, right? Although to be fair, I couldn't really judge that one properly."

"What? Why?" said Foggy.

"Well, the pod racing scene is something I think you have to see to really get," Matt said. "Described video probably didn't do that one justice."

As Matt said that, Foggy suddenly realized that this was one of the first times he had ever heard Matt talk about a movie or TV show. They never watched TV together, and sometimes Foggy made references that went right over his friend's head. He'd never considered the fact that this was because of his friend's visual impairment before. He'd just thought that Matt wasn't really into TV or movies.

It was strange for him to think about the fact that while Matt could say he'd "seen" The Phantom Menace, he'd never really seen it.

"You should be happy," Foggy said, "You only had to hear how racist Jar Jar Binks was. Seeing him makes it so much worse."

"I bet," he said.

"Described video?" Foggy asked, curious. "That's the thing where there's a description of what's happening as you watch the movie, right?"

"Essentially," said Matt. "Most movies have it now, thankfully, although it's easier to find in theatres than on DVD. And most television's kind of not an option for me, unfortunately."

"Huh," said Foggy thoughtfully. "That makes it weird, then, that you like these movies," Foggy said. "They're very... uh... visual?" He hoped that Matt wouldn't be offended that he'd said that.

Matt just smiled. "Well, I fell in love with the original trilogy back when I could see, so that probably helped. It was hard to watch, later, but I still had the images in my head. I could still picture everything happening. And I watched them so much that I like to think I haven't forgotten anything in the years since."

"Yeah?" said Foggy.

"Yep," replied Matt.

"Okay, hotshot," said Foggy. "You think you know these movies so well. Why don't you hit me with a little described video right now? Listen, and tell me what you see in your head."

"Okay", Matt said, smiling. He listened for a moment. "Artoo, you did it!" he heard. "I never doubted you for a second." Then, Princess Leia spoke. "Let's go!" she said.

"Ah," said Matt. "It's towards the end. They're in Cloud City, and it's dusk. And they're racing for the Millennium Falcon as storm troopers reach the main door. Lando and Leia are holding them off, and Chewie and the others are getting onboard. Chewie starts the ship. That sound right now is the whine of the engines. And Lando and Leia just barely make it on board as it takes off."

Foggy's eyes widened as his friend described the scene perfectly. "Well holy shit," he said. "That was impressive."

"Yeah?" said Matt.

"Yeah. Come watch with me. And keep going," said Foggy, moving over to accommodate Matt on his bed. Matt laid down next to him. Foggy leaned back and closed his eyes. "Are you going to fall asleep?" Matt asked, surprised.

"Nope," said Foggy, "I'm just gonna lay here and watch the movie through your eyes for a bit. Keep going." Matt's smile grew wider.

When it ended, Return of the Jedi began, and Matt impressed Foggy even more by reciting the entire opening crawl from memory.

From that day forward, it became a tradition that whenever Foggy discovered the Star Wars movies on TV, the two of them watched them together if they could. Sometimes Matt would describe them, and sometimes Foggy would, and sometimes they had to arrange it over the phone, but they always made the time.

Once, they even watched the prequels, which Foggy described for Matt in a mocking, dismissive tone. In fact, most of Foggy's descriptions he completely made up and embellished for his own amusement. He described Jar Jar Binks wearing a rastacap and smoking marijuana as he spoke. But Matt loved it. He enjoyed them more that way.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a Tumblr, which can be found at http://enthusiasmgirl.tumblr.com. I blog about Daredevil and Marvel. A lot.
> 
> I love comments, even critical ones! They help me be a better writer, so please feel free to leave some. :D


End file.
